Take your Medicine | By : Imaginary Category: DC Verse Cartoons - Teen Titans > Slash - Male/Male > Robin/Slade Views: 8215 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, nor the characters of the series, nor do I make any money or profit from this story. |
Hello, this is SladinForever. I admit that I am a very bad beta XD I've had several chapters sitting on my computer for Kach, but I've been in a reading rut for a long time and haven't bothered working on betaing her work for her. Last time Take Your Medicine was updated was over a year ago. Yeah, I'm horrible, I know D: Hopefully, though, I'll be able to get my ass into gear and get to editing the rest that I have so far for your enjoyment. To brush up on things, here's what has happened:
-Robin was sick with the flu, went out to fight crime, and wound up collapsing due to his fever
-Slade picked him up, nursed him back to health, and has been training him during their one week training deal
-Robin has learned to use a variety of weapons and goes into a simulation room, where he performs specific tasks that Slade sets for him
-Last chapter, Robin conquered his fear of small spaces by traveling through ventilation and getting stuck in the process
So, everyone got that? Yes? Good! But, by all means, go back and brush up on the older chapters since I'm such a lame ass XD I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's actually really well written and so far is one of my favorites. Enjoy!
Kachiru's Beta, SladinForever
Kazhiru's AN:
Today I was having a boring day... school was nerve wrecking, and once I got home, I played minecraft all day long... I was supposed to go to sleep after, but I decided to check my email first... OHS*HIT GUYZ! DocX deliver? *Insert intense joy* I'm sorry this chapter is WAY more than late, but hey, it's here now. Maybe I can keep up with the phase. I have like... What? 15 chaps already written. They only need some editing from my beta. (sorry sladin). Please, do enjoy the story, and thank SladinForever for her patience to edit my horribly written gibberish!
Enjoy!
As they say, the return journey always feels faster than the beginning one. The same applied when traveling in vents. Robin had almost memorized the route and had not taken as many missed turns as before. Soon, he reached the end of the maze. The feeling of walking on the firm floor was really something Robin appreciated. The vent had felt way more hot, laborious, stuffy, and, at some point, Robin was sure he'd faint from the stink and dehydration combined.
"Oh God I have to get a glass of water. And a shower. I stink."
And stink he did. It was as if the smell from the vents were stuck on him, making him feel disgusted. Who would want to smell like rotting fish and moth-eaten air that had been staying still since god knows how long? Taking his leave, Robin left down the hall, without looking back. The first thing he did was drink three big glassfuls of water. After, he took a shower, using the one in Slade's quarters. He felt clean after he had gotten rid of all the sweat from the hot vents. He now smelled fresh thanks to Slade's sports shampoo. The exhaustion from the vent experience was taking its toll and making Robin feel tired, but he didn't want to miss the simulator practice. Slade had planned something for him and somehow he found that he didn't want to disappoint him. Especially not after being able to survive the vents almost perfectly.
As Robin held his loosely hanging towel on his waist, smelling fresh and feeling it too, he found out that he didn't have the courage to touch his training suit anymore. He could smell the damn thing from the other side of the room. Not even the most horrifying beast would make him wear that thing before it was properly washed. Maybe the bots would collect it if he just left it there? Shrugging his shoulders, Robin made his way to the closet, looking for his spare uniform that he knew would have to be there somewhere. After finding it folded nicely in the furthest corner, he changed and then fled to the simulator room, not even trying to hide his happiness and energy. His chest was swelling with pride and accomplishment when he had finally overcome his fear of small spaces. And, of course, he was really happy to leave the stinking uniform in the room.
Finding his way to the simulator room was easier than he thought. Getting lost not nearly as much, Robin stepped in the room without bothering to state his presence to Slade. He didn't really deserve any kind of pleasantries after making him go through the vent maze twice.
"Robin."
"Slade," Robin answered with almost the same cold voice as Slade had. Slade sounded more amused than cold, but Robin ignored that fact.
"I see you were able to cope with the vents. I'm pleased. But now, if you will, we'll start with this exercise. In you go."
Slade indicated the door that led to the room itself with his hand. He was once again near the command center, adjusting the room settings.
"What do you have planned?" Robin asked curiously, really feeling as such.
Slade hadn't said anything about what he would encounter in the room this time, making him feel slightly cheated. He needed some kind of clue as to what he would see in there.
"I'll tell you when you're inside, just like last time."
Taking a deep breath, Robin decided to go in. Last time was not nearly as bad as it had been, so this wouldn't be either. Right? Once he stepped into the room, the scenery started to change immediately. Robin saw the panels of the wall switch, twist, turn, and reflect artificial light. Soon they were settling on something that looked brownish and slightly dark. The floor started to make its change now as well. Robin could see how different types of objects rose under him. He knew better than to move around now, so he stood completely still until the room finished its transformation. Soon, after one clunk like noise was heard and his surroundings lay completely still, the room started to create smaller details.
Cold, salty, sea-like smelling air caught Robin's nostrils. It was enough to make his hair rustle. Then, voices, howling wind, some roaring machines, and even people talking came around. Soon the room seemed to wake up and everything became alive. Small pieces of trash on the concrete moved from the wind and other kinds of movement. Further away, Robin saw people standing in a crowd, conversing, moving their hands aggressively, as if saying that they really disagreed with whatever they were being told. Robin couldn't hear what they were saying very well.
It always amazed Robin how this room could bring everything to life—make everything so real. He could even feel the uneven ground under his feet. Tiny pebbles of sand would hit his face and some trash collided with his ankles, which he could also feel. He could even sit on one of the crates that were in the alley he was in if he wanted to. This reminded Robin to observe his surroundings. He was definitely at the docks, judging by the smell of the ocean and the huge shipping crates and machines that were there to move them. Robin could even hear a faint crashing of waves. Soon the air was pierced by the ship's horn as it gave some kind of signal—Robin didn't know much about ship signals really. It was a perfect replica of Jump City's docks, as far as he could tell. All the gray and dark brown colors, all the warehouses, the different colored crates; everything. It just never ceased to amaze Robin. Slade suddenly interrupted him from his musings.
"Are you ready?"
Of course he was. He was eager, to be more exact. Robin just couldn't wait. He didn't know what he had to do yet, but somehow he felt as if he actually was at the docks, not in Slade's base. Maybe he could see Titans Tower from there? It wasn't impossible, when the sky was clear, you could shape the island. He couldn't wait.
"Yes, of course I'm ready. What's the mission?"
"You see those people at the docks? They are dealers. They have a huge shipment coming in and they have strict orders: shoot or be shot. But you don't need to arrest them. That is not your place in the story." That comment dazed Robin slightly because that was what he usually did. Catch the bad guys and hand them over to police. "These people have actually stolen something of yours and are now about to ship it to the highest bidder. Of course, the police are okay with this because they aren't very fond of you. To put it another way, they have been ordered to look the other way." So Slade had made him the bad guy for this one. Well it didn't matter, this was only a simulator. Right? But it still irritated Robin. "They are after you for good and, if you don't get them first, they are going to kill you."
Okay, so Slade had just sent him into the middle of a killing spree. Robin was so going to get back at him for that.
"So what do you want? For me to kill them with my bare hands? Can I just immobilize them?"
He didn't have any weapons with him for god's sake! He was not about to kill anyone, not even if they were only mirages, or whatever they were.
"To answer your questions in order: I want you to take care of those people, don't let anyone escape, there's only twelve of them. And of course you couldn't kill them quickly and efficiently with just your hands. There's a gun placed on a small crate in the right corner. Also, there are some extra bullets. Remember, this is not one of those games where you can redo the mission. Don't get yourself killed. And no, you can't immobilize them. Well, maybe you can, but then they could speak to their boss. If that happens, you have failed." Robin couldn't hold back a snort. Let them kill him? This was a simulator, they could do no such thing. They didn't really exist. That meant that their guns didn't exist, neither did the wounds he might get. "I hope you get the point because you are on your own now. Take care."
And with that, the voice was gone. If Slade really thought that Robin would kill someone, he was sadly mistaken. He still couldn't picture the fact that Robin didn't kill. He was not going to start now, nor was he ever. But still, deciding to let Slade at least think he was going to do this by the rules, Robin picked up the imaginary gun, which was weird to hold. It weighted as much as the one he had used before and it looked the same. It felt one hundred percent real, but it couldn't be. There was no gun inside the simulator room when he had entered, which could only mean that the gun wasn't real.
After placing the gun and extra bullets safely in his belt, which acted as a holster, Robin made his move. First thing he always did was prepare a plan and get a good sight connection to the target. Robin climbed up the escape ladders and soon found himself creeping on the roof of a tall warehouse, examining his targets. Was there any way he could just immobilize them? Was there any other way to shut their mouths than to kill them?
Hey, he actually could see Titans Tower from here! There was a light on in the living room window and he was sure that they were all watching a move- No! Concentrate on the mission.
Robin's mind was clearly not producing anything useful for this and, so far, he only noticed that eight of the men were close-by, talking, and the rest were near the ship, getting ready. Slade had mentioned that they had something of his. Maybe if he'd be able to get that back, he didn't need to do anything about the men on the docks. But then maybe there wasn't anything in the ship? This was a simulator after all. Besides, the ship was way too secure, it was too much of a risk to be taken. Any way Robin looked at it, there was no way he could silence the men, and if he could, they'd almost be better off dead. Maybe if he was able to lure them in a trap? Yes, that was it. Maybe he'd be able to lock them up in one of those huge shipment boxes. Once in there, they could be taken to one of those oil platforms for all he cared.
Robin looked around his surroundings to look for the best shipment box for the cause. And there it was. It was lying on it's side, lid open, almost as if it were waiting to be used. All it needed was some slight modifications and a possibility to lock. Maybe if he could support the lid with something and, when they were in, he'd just need to break the supporting pole. It sounded really simple, but sometimes simple was the best. Then he could block the lid by driving one of the forklifts against it, blocking it. All he needed now was to put his plan into action. He climbed back down and silently ran into the shadows of the warehouses. No one had seen him yet. Good. He could not let anyone see or hear him until he was ready and, so far, everything was going according to plan. Robin quickly found some abandoned iron bars from the dock. It was rather challenging to try to move them from there to the box right under their noses though.
Soon, the trap was set and the only thing left was getting the forklift ready. The shipment box was in a rather good location. It was hidden in the alley and it was right after a sharp turn. If Robin managed to get all of them to chase him, he'd only have to take the turn and climb over the box. Then they would just run inside. They wouldn't even notice what hit them until it was too late.
Smiling widely, Robin made his way to the forklift. He sat on the seat and pushed the metal shield off with a piece of steel he found while moving the bars. Now he only had to connect some wires—he did not have the keys—and then he'd be all set. Robin had done this before. Well, not with a forklift, but with cars and motorcycles while working with Bruce. This wouldn't be much harder. Except that the wires were all either brown or blue. How did this piece of junk pass the security test? The wires had to be marked by colors so that no danger of miss wiring caused an electrical shot. This machine had to be against every law on vehicles, but Robin tried his luck. He just had to look really carefully, figure out which wire came from where, and then connect them. With a hold of his breath, he touched the ends together. The forklift started and the motor was functioning just fine. But so was the horn. The noise was so loud, it almost scared Robin out of the heavy machinery. This did not amuse the dealers. No, not one bit.
"I hear him! He's by that alley!"
"Get him! Don't let him escape!"
"I'll shoot that little mollusk!"
Robin was dead meat now. He startled to his feet, wanting nothing more than to escape. There were eight of them behind him. He had no idea where the rest of them were.
'Slade would probably get the kicks out of this if he was looking from the window… This is so embarrassing.'
Robin was quickly brought back to the chase as a gunshot pierced the air. He heard an iron barrel being shot, which caused him to meep and run faster. This hadn't gone to plan. It hadn't gone to plan at all!
It took Robin a while to notice that his chasers were showing no signs of tiredness, but weren't actually that good of shooters either. So far, he had not been shot, even if he had been out like a sitting duck. He could see that some of the dealers were not comfortable with the guns as they tried to shoot him by holding it with both hands and closing both eyes too. They even held their hands wrong. They were not supposed to press their hands against their chest and just hope to hit their target. What kind if idiots were they? It almost made Robin want to turn around and show them how it was done. But only an idiot would do that. And that turned the light bulb on over his head. Maybe he didn't have to kill anyone if he just ran through the mob and make them shoot each other. That may have sounded like an idiotic plan, but he couldn't really shoot them either. He couldn't run and aim at the same time. Besides, doing daring acrobatics was what he did best. Some of the men, who really seemed to be newbies at this profession, even seemed to be afraid of the slightest sound they heard. It would not be a real challenge to make them accidentally shoot their comrades as they were trying to protect themselves from the attacker. They'd probably even try to shoot their own shadow because of their nervousness. All he had to do was scatter the crowd.
When Robin ran to the next turn, he jumped up and took a hold of the escape ladder, pulling himself up and then staying completely quiet, waiting for them to run past.
"He disappeared!"
"You let him escape? Idiots! We'll separate to look for him. Yell if you find him!" The men nodded. Soon, they all scattered, expect the one that yelled, who was still standing right under Robin. "Come on you coward, I know you're still here!"
He looked around, holding his gun in his hand, ready to shoot whatever moved. Great, he'd have to be the first one to go.
Silently, Robin made his way to the roof, making sure he didn't hear him. He'd just have to test out how sensitive they were… Robin saw almost everyone from the roof. He could see their positions and he could guess their paths. The roof he was on was flat. It also seemed to have been forgotten. Some time ago, people had probably tried to fix the roof and now it looked like they had left without a trace, leaving everything on it. He could use those as distractions. He could drop some tools to make noise, to scare them. Like Batman, he'd drop on them in the shadows and make them scream for their dear life.
Smiling widely, Robin took one blank board from the pile and went into his position near the end of the roof. He could see two people from there. They couldn't see each other because they were on opposite ends of the path—one in the alley and the other behind a wall. Was this made easy for him or what? Both of the men were tense. He could tell by the way they had their shoulders tensed. They walked slowly, taking small steps, turning around in distress as they heard imaginary voices behind them. One of them even managed to shoot a rat when he thought it was the intruder.
Smiling, Robin lifted the wood blank over his head, aiming for the barrels at the corner of the turn. He could see the wood piece fly in the air and then collide with the iron barrels, making a huge metallic sound that then rolled them over. The men were shouting and running at the corner, aiming at the source of the noise. The other was at his highest level of awareness and noticed the shadow of the other person coming around to see what the sound was about. He aimed at the corner, waiting for the shadow's owner to come around the bend. It all happened so fast that Robin barely registered it. As he came into view, the other shot him in the chest at the exact same moment without thinking. Once he noticed what he had done, he rushed over to the man, trying to stop the bleeding. He kneeled over him, trying to reassure him that he'd be okay. Unfortunately, he looked like he could die from this very moment in mere minutes. Robin could even see it from the distance by the way the shot man tensed and went pale. The man kneeling was pressing the wound while holding him by his hand, shouting for him to stay conscious, to not die. Soon, a third man ran to the scene, probably aware of the shouting and shooting he had heard. Suddenly stopping, he stood frozen to the spot when he saw the men on the ground. As he collected himself together, he started to shout. He was mad at the other. All he got back was some half-assed apologies that Robin could not hear from the distance because he spoke in a panicked and incoherent voice. Soon, both voices started to rise and they all but yelled at each other. As the man laying unmoving on the ground finally breathed his last breath, the man who had just come to the scene lost it and started to point at the other with a gun. They sure weren't stupid enough to kill each other over this were they?
Robin decided that he wasn't sure if he wanted to wait and find out. He had managed to trigger this event and he wasn't happy about it. The men were delirious, they yelled, they blamed each other for the event, and, before Robin could stop them, they both had drawn their guns and fired a shot each. The newer man hit the kneeled one straight between the eyes. In turn, he was hit in the throat. As he hit the ground with a horrible thump, he shook violently, holding his throat and trying to yell despite his windpipe nearly getting blown off. The sight was disgusting. The blood was spraying from the wound, hitting the wall, and the man was in shock. It took all of Robin's will to not rush in there, to remind himself time and again that this was not real. The men didn't really exist and this was merely a simulator. But god did it look real. Robin could see the blood pool to the floor. As he finally jumped down to look if the man was still alive, he noted that his breath was so faint that it merely made the blood drip out of his mouth and his eyelids were blinking faintly and rapidly.
As Robin was about to reach for him, to help however he could, he saw him trying to cough and, before he managed to lift him in a sitting position, he had already choked on his own blood. The man's eyes had glossed over and he didn't breathe. Robin knew he had lost him. He had caused the death for all three people and he felt terrible. He stood in the middle of the corpses, staining his boots and legs in dark red blood, looking at the lifeless beings on the ground. He really thought that if he made the men kill each other, he would not feel bad about it and it wouldn't be his fault. But he was wrong. He was so wrong. Never in his life had Robin felt this guilty, nor this horrified with himself. Because of him, three men were now dead. No, three imaginary people. Simulator people. Only a mirage, a production of his mind. Or Slade's mind, seeing as he was the on the other side of the wall, pushing all the buttons. This was not real! It took all of Robin's will to make him believe that the men in front of him were only a hallucination. A darn good one, but still a hallucination. But Robin could smell the odor of blood in the air. He felt how thick the liquid was slowly making its way through the layer of clothing he had on him and was slowly tainting his legs with the shade of dark red despair.
"Hey! You!" An angry voice woke Robin up from his disturbing thoughts. Lifting his head, he saw another man, looking horrified. Who wouldn't when he just found his enemy kneeling on the ground, covered by the blood of his dead comrades that lay on the ground around him. "Y-You…You killed them! I'm going to murder you for this!"
Raising the gun, the man aimed to shoot Robin. Knowing better than to stay kneeling there, he bolted up, running as fast as he could and trying to find cover. On the ground, there was some materials he could use, like the lid of an iron barrel or the barrel itself. But a small voice inside his head told him that it was no use. The voice was mocking him, telling him to stop running, face the enemy, and just kill him. He had already killed three men, he may as well kill the rest. But then there was this other voice. That voice told him, too, to stop running, but it also told him to stay and get shot. He had killed and he wasn't any different than his worst enemies. He was on the same level now.
Robin's thoughts were running from one point to another, which made him do the same. At least he was sure he had passed that corner at least three times already. The man after him was furious. He screamed and he fired shot after shot. None of them had yet to come near Robin, but what he was afraid of was that the man would attract others' attention. If he couldn't come up with a plan quick and the others found him, he would be dead for sure.
Robin ran fast, zigzagging and changing his path many times, trying to distract the man, but so far, he had not been able to escape his wrath. There were no ladders to escape with, nor anything suitable for cover. Things seemed to go wrong for him. He was sure that every turn he took led to nowhere and all of his plans seemed to crash. His mind was a mess and he kept facing dead ends with his thoughts. He didn't want to spill anymore blood from anyone, not by his hands and not by others. Besides, this was a simulator, right? He didn't have to. This wasn't real. It wasn't like these men could actually hurt him. They weren't real. And what wasn't there couldn't hurt him. Right? Robin was trying to reassure himself, even if he liked to believe that he was just planning on what to tell Slade once he got out of there. None of this training made sense. What was the point of killing something that didn't really exist?
Facing another dead end, Robin found that he was screwed. This one was nothing but physical force. He was now trapped in the alley with no other way out except to go where the danger was: the man with a gun and a motive to kill. Robin stood back facing the wall, eyes set before him, waiting for the man to appear in his line of vision any minute now. He suddenly appeared, eyes blood shot, clothes ragged, panting for breath, looking aggressive and menacing with a loaded gun in his hands, and making it very clear that he would shoot. By the crazed look in his eyes, Robin knew he wouldn't regret the moment he pulled the trigger. It was only him and the man now. Two people, only one survivor. At that point, Robin knew that there was no chance to get himself out of this. The man was there to kill. He meant business.
"You fucking son of a bitch! You must be really proud of yourself now, huh? Causing mayhem all around the city, murdering people, having connections! Well it's all over now! You finally made your false move! I will avenge the very injustice you have done, by relieving the people from their misery!
Swinging down with the back of the gun, the man missed Robin's head by only mere inches. Instead, he managed to land a painful hit to his left shoulder, causing him to flinch in pain and grab it. The pain wasn't real. Robin tried to think, but god did it feel real when his shoulder stung with pain. It was the equivalent to being hit by an iron crowbar. As he raised his head to look at the man, the first thing he noticed was that his gun was a special, modified version. Or at least different from the one the men carried with them. This one was slightly bigger and made out of pure metal. It probably weighed at least twice more than the others and it had small spikes for decoration. Robin started to believe they were there for a reason. And he didn't want to be hit with it again. As the man raised his hand again, Robin was already on his way to avoid the attack before it even landed. He still managed to get a small scratch on his left side, but the suit protected him pretty well.
"You think this is some game kid? You better stop playing around and start fighting for real! I'm going to kill you and I'm going to take all the fun out of it by making you feel the pain you caused for my comrades!" The man reloaded the gun. "Let's see you dance with one leg already in the grave."
Before Robin could dodge, a loud bang was heard and a bullet pierced his leg, destroying the muscle and making it bleed profusely. He screamed in pain. Now it was almost impossible to believe that this was just a mere simulator. Robin fell to his knees, the pain was almost unbearable. He had been shot before, but one could never get used to something like this. Last time he had fainted pretty fast after the shot and he didn't have to suffer for long, but not this time. This couldn't be a simulator anymore. He was in real pain, the man was real, and the blood that kept oozing from the wound certainly looked real enough for him. His leg was shattered. The bullet had gone right through his shin, only missing the bone by mere millimeters. The bullet itself had rammed itself in the wall behind Robin, making the bricks crack and break. There was no chance that this was a game anymore. No, this was real. All this time, Robin had assured himself that nothing that happened here could really hurt him, but this proved him wrong. He was in trouble now. His leg was useless from the knee down and it hurt like hell. He couldn't run, jump, or kick. Hell, he couldn't do anything now that his right leg was shattered. Robin tried to hold it and try to stop the bleeding, trying to look for anything to use as a bandage. When he lifted his gaze from his leg, he saw the man's knee aimed at his face. It hit him hard in the left cheek bone, leaving horrible pain and loud protest from his neck. It didn't like the sudden motion of being twisted back more than it normally did.
As Robin flew backwards, his head moved back far enough to slightly hit a barrel hanging uselessly on the wall, but luckily it didn't hurt. Or at least he didn't notice it. His leg was hurting enough that he didn't care about the small wince on his face. Robin tried to lift himself up while keeping a hold of the wall. He backed himself into a corner. The man was lunging at him when he finally got himself on both feet, supporting all his weight with his left leg and trying to lift his damaged one as protection, wishing it would keep the man away from him. He only slapped it away, making Robin wince. He forgot all about the pain in his shoulder while lifting his hands to try and hit the man into unconsciousness. As they say, redirecting pain was possible. Robin had to agree. His leg hurt enough that the pain in his shoulder now felt like nothing. He even managed to land an almost perfect, successful blow to the man's temple. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough power behind it and the man only swayed away a little. It left more space between the two, but it didn't hold him back.
Robin felt useless without being able to kick his enemy because he held a great portion of strength within his legs. Not that his arms were weak by any means, but he had gotten used to a fighting style with powerful kicks, professional bo staff mastery, and almost anyone could see that almost all of his moves were supported by his legs, the power of the punch starting from the very being of himself. But now, when Robin was left with only his hands to fight, his chances were reduced by a good half portion of the total. Promising to have more effort in only hand-to-hand combat, Robin tried to come up with good alterations for his moves, trying to come up with something that didn't require a leg he couldn't afford.
As the man lunged forward, Robin used his good leg to jump, trying to lift himself enough in the air to lung at him with his full weight behind his punch, managing to make him stumble and fall. The landing made Robin wince as the injured leg hit the ground and the wounded muscles protested as they moved the way they normally wouldn't. Using all that Batman had taught him, he tried to ignore the pain. As the man was pushed to the ground, he tried to jump away from him, but didn't get very far. He grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him down. Getting his breath forced out of his lungs as he hit the ground, Robin tried to recover as fast as possible. He rolled over and awaited a sharp punch from the man. As he saw the force when the punch hit the ground, making the dirt jump and hover into the air, Robin decided that he didn't want to be hit. He now lay on his back in the dirt. He used his hands and abs to jolt himself up on his only healthy leg, swaying a little but managing to keep his balance. He tried to jump away again, but the man had a hold of his hand. He tried to pull him back. Robin was about to lose his balance for real this time, but managed to yank his hand from him, making himself fall backwards. Luckily, he hit the wall and was still standing.
The man was yelling in frustration as Robin kept escaping from his clutches. He then attempted a full lung towards him. Robin tried to protect himself from the upcoming punch by stopping him with his hands, but he had misjudged his intentions and the force of the punch. The fist sank into Robin's stomach, feeling like his intestines were pushed apart from each other, making him vomit whatever he had been trying to digest.
"Don't you see, brat. Your game is played. You lost."
Robin was desperately trying to gasp for breath and straighten his collapsed position. He saw the man preparing to shoot his brains out. Robin could already see himself lying lifeless in a bare room with gray walls and an emotionless Slade staring at him from the other side of the glass, shaking his head in disappointment. He could not die in here. He was supposed to be free. After one week, he would see his friends again. He was not going to let himself die and make his friends' lives horrible, making them feel guilty and horrified from his disappearance. They'd be crushed when Slade told them he was killed during a mission in a simulator room, killed by people that only existed inside four walls. Robin could see Starfire crying for him, Beast Boy's ears drooping, Raven retreating back inside herself, never opening up again, and saw Cyborg trying to hold everyone together, but failing and falling deep into depression. He could see them mourning him, blaming themselves for his loss. He could not let his friends see that day. Robin felt a single tear drip along his cheek. With shaky hands, he reached to one of his belt pockets.
"Give my regards to your parents in heaven for me, will you?"
Robin felt the cold steel of the gun press against his temple. After a final shot, everything went silent and dark.
There was a little bit of blood on Robin's cheek. No one moved. The setting went completely still. No waves were heard anymore. No wind was playing in the deserted alley. Not even the seagulls dared to coo. A cough was heard and then another droplet hit Robin's cheek, making the red liquid slowly run down and absorb into his uniform, staining it dark red. Finally, the man collapsed, coughing up blood on him. Blood pooled out of his stomach as he leaned on him. Robin almost fell from the heavy weight pressed to his smaller frame. He grasped the gun tightly in his right hand with all the strength he had, pressing it against the man, fearing that the slightest of movements would make the whole world collapse on him. As the strength in the man's legs died, he fell over sideways, landing in the sand and breathing it in. Robin continued to listen to them, though they were distant. Suddenly, all thoughts deserted him. Not a single thing crossed his mind. He soon woke from his reverie when he saw the man try to reach for something. He looked down at the dying mass of flesh and blood. He was glaring at Robin with all the hate he still had. Trying to negotiate his leg to take a weak step forward, he stepped up beside him.
"You made me choose today. When you were going to kill me, I noticed something. It was between you and me. One would live while the other died. It was either me, a person with family and friends, had a goal, and was a real man, or you, a simulator-created person, who only exists inside these walls and inside my head. It took me a near-death situation to realize that I prefer my own life over someone who does not really exist at all."
Blocking out all of the voices around him, Robin aimed the gun one more time and ended the suffering of the dying man in front of him, only hearing a faint sound of a gun shot. Silently, he stepped over the man with his good leg, limping his way to the nearest wall. He used it for support with one hand while the other held his hurting stomach as he tried to find his way back whence he came. The simulator program wouldn't end until the other men were dead too. Robin no longer cared to save them. They were only imaginary people. They weren't even robots. They didn't exist. Even as the first to find him was yelling for his comrades and taking aim with his gun, Robin already shot him and kept going. He didn't care. He was too dirty, too tired, mentally and physically. All he wanted to do was get out of there, take a shower, and sleep. He didn't want to deal with this simulation anymore. He had had enough.
The seven people left were quickly taken care of and Robin was soon on the docks. The men weren't even difficult to deal with. They were fairly terrible shooters and were the biggest cowards he had ever seen in his life. After standing there like an unmoving target with his immobilized leg, Robin decided that the thugs weren't enough to save anyways. Having to kill people, they should at least be a challenge, but these people were just plain stupid or just there to annoy him. Why would anyone ever hire such useless shooters? He did a great deed for the man who had hired them. There's no reason to pay someone who can't do a simple task.
As the last person collapsed and Robin found the room moving around him, he slowly limped his way to the door, where Slade was waiting for him. He was sitting in a desk chair with his arms crossed, looking at him with his only good eye. The moment Robin stepped inside the room, the pain in his leg disappeared and he was almost dumbfounded when he noted that he could stand on it now. There was just a slight cramp that didn't hurt all that bad. Slade stood up from his chair.
"I'm disappointed that it took you so long to get rid of those meddling fools. But I give you some credit for being able to overcome your false morality that killing is always a bad decision." Slade switched positions with Robin, pushing him into the chair. He looked at his slightly hurt leg. "I'm also disappointed that you managed to get yourself this beaten up when the difficulty was only at level two. Those men were probably the worst shooters ever and still you get shot in the leg? I'm disappointed."
Slade removed Robin's boot and lifted the leg of the suit. He started to examine his leg, feeling the muscles and seeing if there was anything wrong. To Robin, the touch felt like a massage. He started to relax from it, leaning back in the chair slightly, as not to show Slade that he was getting comfortable. He didn't want the heavenly touch to go away. After limping around with a shot leg, almost any touch felt like a massage. Robin thought his fingers were remedial. Not daring to tell him that, in fear that he'd stop, Robin decided to ask one question that was bothering him.
"How does the room do that? Make it feel so real…?"
Slade regarded him briefly. "Once I set the simulator, a toxin similar to Dr. Jonathan Crane's fear toxin fills the room. It is absorbed through your skin and stimulates the brain to show hallucinations. I make sure every human sense filters through. With my controls, I create the voices and they are heard from speakers throughout the room. I can also make the aromas in any specific setting. A machine mixes different ingredients, producing said smells. After it's ready, they're transferred through the walls inside the room. As for feeling pain, the mind tricks your body into thinking it's real. Once you stepped out of the room, you instantly detoxed, leaving your hallucinated mind behind and returning to the real world. Thus, the pain vanished almost instantaneously."
Finished with his explanation, Slade gave Robin's thigh a strong pat, letting him know that he was indeed alright. There was no blood on him and his leg didn't bother him at all. Even if he didn't like the idea of being drugged and hallucinating without being informed, he still thought that the room was shrewd. Nodding, he rose to his feet, swaying so little that it probably wasn't even visible. But Slade managed to notice.
"I think you should get some rest. I also think you'll want to take a shower. Therefore I must tell you: tomorrow your missions will begin. I have already planned your mission with a small training session for you to perform before. I suggest you get some sleep so you won't fail you first mission." Slade guided Robin to his bedroom, holding his shoulder for a rather long time. "Robin, I think you have been doing rather well with your training. So far, its been successful and I suggest you keep that up."
Before he let go of him, Slade rewarded him with a small pat on the shoulder. Robin smiled happily at this, accepting the praise he had given. Bruce almost never praised him and he had learned to accept praises whenever they came. What he wondered was why a praise from Slade made him feel more accomplished than one from Bruce. He thought that it was because he had been made to do some really challenging things today: overcame his fear of small spaces and he survived today's simulator program. He had overdone himself, on some mental scale at least, and he thought that he deserved the praise he had earned.
As they reached the room, Robin went straight to the shower. Even if he wasn't covered completely in blood, he still felt as if he was. Inside, Robin enjoyed the warmth of the water that relaxed every nerve and made him feel wonderfully clean. I felt nice to let all those depressing thoughts that had piled up on him when he was in the simulator wash away. After he brushed his teeth with an extra toothbrush that was in the cabinet, he entered the bedroom, wearing his towel on his hips and trying to sort out his hair with his hands. Slade was on the computer and was stealing glimpses of Robin while he stretched and showed off his chest and stomach. It was such a shame that he had to look over and save his work and turn off the computer that he had carelessly left on all morning. Slade would have preferred to do some bird watching instead of checking on a few files.
"Slade, where are my sleep clothes?"
Robin was currently leaning over the bed, looking to see if the bots had placed them under the comforters. Slade was looking too. At Robin's rear.
"Probably in the closet," he mumbled absentmindedly.
"Oh, yeah, right…"
Robin decided to take a shortcut by crawling over the bed, reaching the closet way faster that way. After that show, Slade didn't mind if Robin slept naked. Why cover those muscles under some overly big nightshirt? With that, Slade made a mental note to get Robin new night wear. Maybe something more huggable? Or maybe he would just forget the whole shirt thing. He could sleep with pajama pants only. What had he been thinking when he provided Robin those clothes? Well, as they say, one learns from their mistakes.
Slade turned off the computer while Robin made himself comfortable in the bed, burying himself under the comforter to absorb the warmth. He turned on his side so that he was facing the bathroom door. He was about to drift off to sleep when he felt the mattress fold as another person laid down. Robin tensed. Slade had just come to sleep next to him. He hadn't done that before. Or, at least…Robin didn't know if he had. He laid still, as if to wait for him to move, to reach out to him, but nothing happened. So he relaxed. It was Slade's bed. Strange, Robin didn't even think about asking for a room for himself. It actually unnerved him. Did that mean that he liked to be here with Slade? Of course not. That was just stupid. Who would want to be in the same place with Slade? That just didn't add up.
Robin tensed again when Slade turned on his side and inhaled. He let the air venture out from his lungs, making it travel until it hit his neck and made him shiver. Robin could smell Slade all around him now. It came with the breath. But, he found that he didn't mind at all. Slade smelled musky. Inhaling his scent helped relax him again, making him think that maybe this wasn't that weird. It was Slade's room and it was his bed after all. And so, Robin let himself drift towards sleep. He hoped that he wouldn't see anything from the simulator in his dreams. He didn't want to see himself killing people in his sleep, nor see himself getting killed. Almost getting worried about the night to come, Robin tried to curl up in a ball, but was brought back to Earth by the sound of Slade's steady breathing. Hmm, maybe it was a good thing to have him around. Slade would protect him if anything bad were to happen. Not a single person would dare threaten him. Somehow, Robin found his breathing very reassuring.
As he drifted off, Robin couldn't help but muse if Slade slept with his mask on or not. It was cut short when he was too tired to turn around and look. Relaxing again and giving into his exhaustion, Robin soon found himself sound asleep.
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